Ketsuraku
by Pheo the Flame
Summary: Enya Yale is a twenty year old obsessed with watch gears and her silken windhound Amaya. When she meets Matt at her mom's store, they have enough in common to strike up a conversation. But Matt didn't realize he was leading Enya to an unwanted fate… AU!
1. Liar

**Ketsuraku**

Disclaimer: I don't own Matt. He belongs to Death Note. I don't own Death Note either. It belongs to Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata. I don't own them either. So don't sue me. I don't own a lawyer.

AN: Ketsuraku means 'missing' in Japanese. You'll find out why I chose this for a title in a few updates.

Full Summary: Enya Yale is a twenty year old obsessed with watch gears and her silken windhound Amaya. When she meets Matt at her mom's store, they have enough in common to strike up a conversation. But Matt didn't realize he was leading Enya to an undesirable fate… AU, please forgive me!

Liar

Amaya walked calmly at my side, her lithe, lean body relaxed and calm. She was a white silken windhound who had turned eight only a few weeks ago, and I loved her and spoiled her rotten. I hadn't walked her as far as this in ages, but she was always ready for a new challenge. I jogged up to my brother, who was pedaling quickly towards the approaching GameStop, blinking the sun away from my eyes and wishing I'd worn something a bit more practical. I mean, I was wearing a fitted leather jacket trimmed with faux fur, which was nice and warm on a cold autumn morning, and a comfortable pair of blue jeans, but have you ever tried jogging in heels? Especially four inch heels that had several large, heavy metal gears adorning them in the place of buckles? Not fun.

"Hey," I called to my fifteen year old brother Sirocco, "Wait up!" He didn't stop, but slowed slightly.

"What's up Enya?" He asked. Amaya and I slowed down to a quick walk as we neared him again, and he grinned that cocky grin of his. "Are you reconsidering joining a team?" I sighed and shook my head. My brother and I both loved gaming, but I was never good enough to do any sort of serious competition. He, on the other hand, gamed with a passion. I had decided he was the only one in the family with a theme song after hearing 'Play' by Krooked K. "Then what is it?"

"Just slow down, would you?" I asked, knowing that I sounded exasperated but not caring. "If I had my car back, I swear I would've driven us both, but please don't hold it against me…" I'd gotten us into a bit of a wreck a few days ago, and sent my precious black Nissan Cube to the garage for repairs, glad I had two well-paying jobs to cover the costs. (I worked as a secretary at my dad's office, as well as a night shift at a fancy restaurant whose name always slipped my mind waiting tables three nights a week.)

"I don't blame you," Sirocco said, "At least, not for the wreck…" The sparkle in his eyes gave me a pretty good idea as to what his next words would be. "But I can't believe you were flirting with the mechanic." I blushed.

"I was not!" I protested, and not caring what anyone thought, I chased him the rest of the way to the video game store in our small, technological town, Amaya running right next to me. (Although admittedly, I could hardly run at all in my heels.)

When we arrived at GameStop, I finally slowed down, knowing Sirocco would already be inside. Amaya was allowed in as an exception to the 'no dogs' rule, but only because our mom was the store's manager, and we were there so often all the employees knew us by name (both real and otherwise), face, and voice. There were even a few who were close family friends.

Unfortunately, I noticed that the 'Employees Wanted' sign was gone from the window. I sighed. "C'mon Amaya," I said, "Let's get this over with…" I hated when people told me I couldn't bring my dog inside. I could read quite well, I would tell them, and no, Amaya is not a service dog, but if you asked someone, you'll see that it's fine to have her in here, unless you're allergic.

And my mom refused to hire people who were allergic to dogs for that very reason. (Though there were normally other reasons.)

The place was packed, and Amaya strained against her harness for a moment before realizing it was hopeless. I gently slipped in and out of the isles, pretending I knew more than I did. Sirocco did most of the shopping when it came to video games… He'd actually gotten me addicted to World of Warcraft a few weeks before my final examines. I ended up going without sleep for two days straight, cramming, for those tests. I had almost gone insane.

"Enya!" I heard Sirocco's voice over the din, and Amaya and I threaded through the huge crowds of people (most of whom were younger than me, which made me feel out of place) towards his voice. "You'll never guess who I just found." The look in his eyes told me otherwise. Probably another one of my gaming obsessed friends… I had a few. Yeah, I'll admit I'm a bit of a nerd, or a geek, or whatever. I fit in perfectly.

"Who is it this time?" I asked, half distracted as Amaya whined. She had hardly any space, poor thing. I'd take her outside and play with her in a bit.

"Guess," Sirocco said again. His hazel eyes glittered mischievously.

"Amaya's long lost grandfather," I said sarcastically. I wasn't really in the mood for guessing games.

"Nope," he replied, "Try again." I sighed, which was a really bad idea, seeing as how I was wearing a corset. It dug into my ribs, probably having moved just enough when I was attempting to run to do so.

_This must be why mom was so against my wearing them… _I gasped for a moment, then said, "Sirocco, I'm really not in the mood right now…"

"Oh c'mon Enya," he said, "Just three more guesses. Serious guesses. And if you don't get it by then, I'll tell you." I didn't know why he was being so persistent, but I decided to humor him.

"Okay," I said, "Three serious guesses. And if I guess right, you pay for ice-cream on the way home." That was a bit of a ritual for us. Whenever we went to out mom's store, we'd get ice-cream on the way home. It used to be that our dad would take us on Saturdays, but then when I got my driver's license we started going once or twice a week.

"Deal," Sirocco said, "But if you don't, you have to cook dinner tonight." I hated cooking. With a passion. But apparently I was good at it, because Sirocco and my parents were always begging me to cook. Maybe it was because they were all too lazy, but still… I couldn't wait until a house or apartment went on the market that I could afford. I would absolutely love to live by myself on those nights when I had to cook for four.

"Alright… so…" I paused, bending down to stroke Amaya's head. "Is it Alorra?" He shook his head. I sighed, disappointed. I was sure that it would have been her; she and I ran into each other almost every time we came here. "Delia?" She was a pretty unlikely candidate, which was why I'd chosen her. She absolutely loved the outdoors, and spent every waking minute photographing wildlife. It was unlikely she'd be here, but then again, Sirocco had that 'you'll never guess' look in his eyes.

"I can't believe you suggested her," Sirocco said, snickering and letting his dusty blonde hair settle in front of his eyes. "Last chance to get out of cooking dinner…" I mentally ran through a list of people I knew. I figured that, whoever it was, the person was probably a guy. He was probably here for something involving a competition (they were held almost weekly, the store was almost always a nightmare) and he probably knew Sirocco. The latter narrowed things down quite a bit, because very few of my friends had ever met him.

"Is it Mage?" I asked, knowing that I was wrong. Mage's real name was Mark, but we all knew him by his screen name, which (I thought) matched him better. But if it wasn't him, I truly had no idea who was here. Sirocco shook his head. "Then who is it?"

He smiled and pointed behind him. I glanced over his shoulder, my eyes flickering around for a moment before they came to rest on a familiar head of red hair. I sighed. This was just like my brother. "You owe us dinner," he said. "And you're going to get this guy's phone number, everyone I meet says you've been single for too long." My brother, unlike most boys, keeps one ear trained on the gaming world and all of its announcements, and the other ear trained on the town's gossip, which annoys me beyond belief. Especially since so much of it seemed to be centered around me, like I was the town celebrity or something. It was annoying. But at least Sirocco will stand up for me, whereas other people have no idea what's true and what's not.

But anyway, I saw a redhead. But this wasn't just any redhead. This was the guy who'd taken my keys when I'd taken my car for repairs. About my age, had a pair of orange tinted goggles perched on his head… We'd talked about those for a while, after I'd inquired why he wore them. He'd tapped on one of the lenses and said something about welding. I can't even remember now. But we were _not _flirting. I turned towards Sirocco with a biting remark on my tongue, but he was already gone, chatting with a friend whose name I didn't remember.

I didn't immediately go and try to talk to this guy. He seemed pretty immersed in conversation with a blonde, who seemed to have been dragged here against his will. I felt a bit bad for him, but seeing as how I loved this place, not too bad. I did like his taste in clothing however… lots of leather.

Instead, Amaya and I went outside. My poor dog had almost gotten her paws trodden on twice, and I needed out of the claustrophobic atmosphere myself. I guess I did prefer when the store wasn't so crowded. Once we'd slipped out of the back entrance, I pulled a collapsible cloth Frisbee out of my pocket. It instantly sprang to full size, and I had Amaya step out of her harness. (It was just a simple step in, step out affair, she only wore it because she could slip out of any collar we put on her and I refused to use anything with a chain.)

"Alright girl," I said, "Go fetch!" I threw it as hard as I could out into the back lot, and instantly my windhound proved that she lived up to her breed; taking off in a streak of white, she caught the Frisbee as soon as it was within three feet of the ground. I, meanwhile, had taken off my jacket and pulled my shirt up just past my stomach, and was trying in vain to re-lace the damn corset I had insisted on wearing today. I didn't wear it particularly tight, being quite skinny without it or any sort of method of starving myself, but more just because I could. But it was a pain when it was trying to break my ribs.

Amaya came trotting back up to me, the Frisbee held in her mouth. "One sec girl," I said, "Just a minute." I was getting used to doing this by now. It was just twisted a bit, so I just had to twist it back. That done, I pulled my shirt down and grabbed the Frisbee from the ground where Amaya had dropped it; drew my arm back –

And almost had a heart attack. There was the redhead, leaning against the wall, watching me with a curious eye. I'm pretty sure that I was gaping like an idiot, because he laughed slightly, smoke rolling out of his nostrils. I made a face, having always disapproved of smoking, but at least he had the decency to stand downwind of me. I threw the Frisbee again, and Amaya tore off. "How long have you been out here?" I asked, furious. He shrugged.

"Just stepped out a minute ago. Name's Matt." I wanted to punch him. "Your car's fixed, you can come pick it up tonight." I stooped to pick up my jacket, my bracelets clinking against each other.

"I'm Enya," I replied, "And I doubt you're here just to tell me my car's fixed." The boy, Matt, smiled. Amaya trotted back up to me, and I grabbed the Frisbee and flung it away again.

"True," he said, "I didn't. I came here because I come here all the time. I take it you're the manager's daughter?" Damn, he was smart. I nodded. "No wonder you looked familiar…" He trailed off, taking a drag on the cigarette.

"That's disgusting," I muttered, turning my attention back to Amaya. Matt sighed, obviously he had heard me. "But anyway," I said, "I'm not going to be able to pick the car up tonight, it's halfway across town and both my parents are working late."

"I'll give you a ride," Matt offered, "I won't smoke if it bugs you." Okay, this guy was being a little too easy to get along with. Even though I was still a bit cautious, I smiled.

"Alright," I said, "That'll be fine. Can Amaya come?" I wasn't particularly worried for my own well-being; I'd taken several self defense classes a few years back (at my dad's request). In fact, if I was worried about anyone, it would be Sirocco, who'd have to get a ride home from our mom.

"Yeah, she'll be okay as long as she doesn't get carsick." I laughed.

"She loves car rides," I said, "She's more likely to stick her head out of the window." I noticed that he'd pulled his goggles down over his eyes, and also (and don't get the wrong idea) I couldn't help but notice how good they looked on him. Oh alright. He was cute. There. I said it. Happy? "So how does it look?"

"Good as new," Matt replied, "Gave it a good tune-up too, changed the oil, checked the tires, replaced a couple of rusty gears, the works. And speaking of gears…" Amaya whined and I threw the Frisbee to her, wondering why I hadn't pulled the car apart looking for rusty gears when I'd changed the oil two months prior. "May I ask what's up with what you're wearing?"

"Steampunk," I said. "Though I don't particularly like these shoes…" But I guessed a better example to the amazing style I wore would be my locket, which was brass and covered with a small array of old watch gears. I unclasped it and tossed it to him. "I've always liked watch gears, so my parents weren't really surprised when I started buying this stuff…" He was caught slightly off-guard, and fumbled with the locket before snagging the chain in his hands. I smiled.

"Interesting," Matt said, "These are real?" I shrugged.

"I think so, but they might not be." I didn't really care; it was a pretty cool piece of jewelry. Matt flicked it open, and smiled. I'd salvaged an old wristwatch of my mom's from the trash, taken it apart, and welded the watch hands to each other, then onto the inside of the locket to show one second past midnight. It wasn't the cleanest welding job, but it was pretty good in my opinion.

"You know, most people put pictures in these," he said. I smiled and flung the Frisbee to Amaya. She leapt up and caught it, executing a beautiful flip.

"I'm not 'most people'," I replied, whistling to Amaya, who'd lain down on the grass a few feet away. She got up and trotted over to me, flopping down by my feet. I smiled at her, and nudged her with my foot, trying to get her to stand up so I could put her harness back on. She stood reluctantly, and in a second, the blue harness was on her again. "Look at you, you're all dirty…" I laughed at her and scratched her ears. "Silly dog."

"Well," Matt commented, "That's a bit obvious…"

"What do you mean by that?" I shot back at him. He laughed and held up his hands.

"Nothing much…" He said, "Just that you seem to try and stick out wherever you go; like Mello." I arched my eyebrows at that name. "He's that blonde who I'm sure you saw, wearing full leather."

"Didn't seem like a very mellow person to me," I commented. Matt laughed at that.

"He's not, believe me."

"Well, I'd better head in," I said, "It was nice talking to you."

"Yeah," Matt agreed, "It was. I'll come with you." He held the door for me (which was completely unnecessary, but sweet) and followed me in. "So," he said just as we were about to part ways, "Just in case Mello decides to drag me off somewhere, here's my phone number… just text me whenever, okay?" I handed him my phone (since he so obviously had _nothing _to write on, or with) and he entered it in a matter of seconds.

"Thanks," I said. With that, we went our separate ways. I slipped off towards Sirocco, noting that he was talking to the blonde who I'd learned was Mello. Or rather, Mello was talking to him… or did it even matter? Sirocco saw me and waved me over. "Hey," I said, "How are ya?" Sirocco grinned at me.

"Great, and I don't really care about you." I laughed, knowing by now that he meant that I was grinning like an idiot. I quickly tried to look a bit more serious as he introduced me to Mello. "Enya, this is Mihael Keehl –"

"Call me Mello," he cut in.

"Mello," Sirocco continued, "This is my older sister Enya." I held out a hand, which he shook, maybe a bit longer than was strictly necessary.

"Nice to meet you," I said, not sure whether I meant it. "And this is Amaya." I nodded to my dog, and he scratched her behind the ears. She wagged her tail at him in appreciation, and he smiled at her; a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Pleasure to meet you both," he said. "I've been dragged in here more times than I can count-"

"So more than twice?" I asked sarcastically. I don't know why, but this guy had an aura that made me want to hit him. Hard. And repeatedly.

"And I've never had the honor of meeting the two of you, though your mother has spoken of you quite often." Mello was glaring pointedly at me by the end of this sentence. If I wasn't used to staring people down, I probably would've melted into a puddle. As it was, I blinked and glanced away within three seconds. "I was quite interested in meeting you…" He glanced my way again, and this time I glared at him.

"Gee, well I'm glad we could do something for you," I snapped, "C'mon Sirocco, I want to show you something." With that, I grabbed my brother's arm and dragged him away with me towards the back of the store.

"Enya," he protested, "What on earth…?"

"I don't like him," I whispered, "I don't like how he was looking at me." And I meant it. Mello scared me. Matt seemed like too nice of a person to hang out with him. "Oh, and by the way…" I showed him my contacts list. "I got his number."

…

AN: Well… I tried to make Enya as un-Sue-ish as possible while still being a character that is central to the story, and I hope I did an okay job. If not, constructive criticism would be lovely. Please review!


	2. Missing

**Chapter 2**

Disclaimer: I still don't own Death Note… Can you believe it?

Missing

Sirocco glanced at the number on my phone's screen. "Nice," he commented. He didn't say anything past that, but I didn't care. Honestly, I was a little more concerned as to how I'd get out of cooking dinner later tonight. We'd been here for about an hour, and the store had cleared out just a bit. And when I say 'just a bit', I mean that one person had left. And that was our mom's assistant, who was on her lunch break.

"So," I said, "Have you found anything interesting?" Sirocco sighed.

"No… it's all the same as last time… I thought mom said she'd gotten some new stuff, but I guess she was wrong or it sold out." I smiled.

"It probably sold out," I said, "After all, we did get here a bit late…" With a shrug, Sirocco turned away from me.

"I'm going to go check again!" He said, but I caught his shoulder before he could dash off into the crowd.

"Matt's going to give me a ride to the garage," I said, "So if I'm not here, I'm picking up the car. I'll have my phone on me, but you'll probably have to get a ride home from mom." Sirocco nodded.

"And what should I tell her?" I shrugged, secretly glad that he was thinking ahead.

"Tell her… I saw Alorra here and we went shoe shopping or something like that." He nodded again and was quickly lost in the crowd. Amaya whimpered as he left, and I stroked her ears. "It's okay girl. We're going on a car ride in a bit. Hear that? A car ride!" I laughed at my idiocy, but if Amaya understood any English, it would be the phrases 'car ride' and 'breakfast/dinnertime'. Sure enough, her ears swiveled around slightly, as though they were radars that could pick up exactly which car she'd be riding in. I smiled at her and walked around, wondering who or what had possessed me to wear these shoes. The heel was thick, but they were still very uncomfortable, and I kept tripping unless I picked up my feet _just _right. Maybe if I wore them more often… _Yeah right. If you did that, you wouldn't have feet. _Oh well. I could put up with it for a bit longer. Then I'd text Matt, we'd go pick up my car, and I'd go home and relax.

After I took Amaya to the groomers and decided on what to cook for dinner. Oh well. If I could spend ten minutes curled up on the couch texting, I would be happy. Or even five. Or just get to listen to the CD's in my car on the drive home. That would be nice. I caught myself humming a random string of notes just thinking about music, which had to make up at least forty percent of my life. Well, maybe I was exaggerating a bit, but music had been part of me since I can remember.

I found myself at the front door of the store when I snapped back to reality. _Heck, _I thought, _Sirocco knows you're leaving, mom won't know. _I stepped outside for some fresh air. The smell of nicotine wasn't quite what I'd been hoping for. I glanced over to my left, and sure enough, there was Matt. "You know," I said, "I think that sign says 'no smoking within fifteen feet of entrance'."

"Ten," Matt corrected, "And if you must know, this is twenty feet." Why was he smirking? Damn him, he was so easygoing!

"Well, you're not exactly helping business here," I snapped, walking over to where the smoke wasn't blowing into my face, being careful not to trip. Matt shrugged.

"I suppose not," he admitted. Then, expertly changing the subject, he asked, "Were you looking for me?" I sighed, knowing that I wasn't going to get him to stop smoking anytime soon.

"I guess I was, seeing as how I found you. Where's your car?" Matt gazed at the small parking lot, as if daring me to guess

"Take a guess," he confirmed. More guessing games… just perfect.

I glanced about at all the cars immediately visible, but didn't see anything that looked like a car Matt might drive. There was a dark green minivan, a white truck, and a few of those 'mini cars' that were 'soooo economical' and seated two people if you didn't mind invading someone else's personal space. Then my eyes caught a glimpse of red, and I blinked. Someone was pulling out of a parking space. A certain leather-clad blonde sort of someone. "There's my guess," I said sarcastically, nodding towards the red car. I had no idea of the make, model, company name; anything really, but what a _beautiful car! _It was certainly nicer than my boxy old Cube, if not so much suited to my taste.

"Absolutely," Matt said, crushing what was left of his cigarette under his boot. "Shall we?" I laughed at the phrase, but followed him as he kicked Mello over to the passenger's seat, and slipped into the back seat with Amaya, who immediately tried to stick her head out of the window. I rolled it down quickly, before she left nose prints on the glass, and she stuck her head and shoulders through. I smiled at her and rubbed her back, then quickly shifted so that we were on opposite sides of the car (though I did keep a firm grip on her leash). The drive was relatively silent until Matt hit a button on the dashboard.

Amaya almost jumped out of the window. I, personally, leapt out of my skin and then started laughing at myself. It was the radio. My guess was one of those metal stations. I had no idea what song was playing, but it involved a guitar and a bass drum or six. Matt slammed the volume button again, and glared at Mello, who was laughing quietly into a leather-gloved fist. "What the hell was that for?" Matt asked incredulously.

"Oh, nothing really," Mello admitted. "I was just bored." Matt sighed.

"You'll have to forgive him Enya," he said, "The last time he said that, he'd just dyed my hair neon orange." I laughed, though I was trying to disguise it as a cough. "It wasn't funny…"

"It was," Mello said. "You should've seen the look on your face!" Okay, maybe I'd judged Mello a little harshly before. He had a cruel sense of humor, but he seemed like an okay person. Sort of. Either way, Matt didn't turn the radio back on. I guessed he was embarrassed, but then again, who wouldn't be? Amaya, hearing that the music was off, turned and slipped back inside. Her nose twitched for several seconds, and then she tried to jump into the front seat. I grabbed her harness and held on for dear life. She was quite strong when she wanted to be.

"Amaya, what on earth are you doing?" I hissed at the dog. Mello, meanwhile, was still laughing.

"She's got a good nose, doesn't she?" He asked. I blinked, confused, but nodded.

"Yeah…" Then it clicked. "Oh, you've got food up there… Amaya, come here!" I tried in vain to pull her back over to the window she'd been looking out of. She flatly refused, straining even more against the harness. She never acted like this… and in the presence of two almost complete strangers… I was mortified. Matt turned left without slowing down (I hadn't realized how fast we were going) and I felt my grip on Amaya's harness loosen. Then he hit the brakes. Amaya leapt out of my grip, snatched something from Mello (a bar of chocolate, I realized later) and dashed out of his window, which was wide open. A moment later, Matt leapt out after her. Well, he didn't jump out of the window, but he rushed outside.

"I'm so sorry Enya!" He said, "I'll be right back…" His voice faded away as he ran off. I had been unaware that smokers could sprint that fast, but started to climb out of the car as well.

"Where do you think you're going?" 'Started' being the key word in that sentence, because to my horror, I felt something cold and metallic being pressed against the side of my head. A gun. Mello had a gun. I felt my stomach disappear, then reappear suddenly full of lead.

"I'm getting out of this car," I said, now knowing that this would not be happening but saying the words anyway. I felt the gun press harder against my skull. It was a feeling I would never forget, a feeling of your life being held completely in someone else's hands, its end just a trigger pull away.

"No, I don't think you are," Mello said, his voice as cool as ice. "I think Matt is perfectly capable of catching a dog on his own… don't you?" He'd shifted over to the driver's seat, where Matt had left the keys in the ignition. And the ignition on. "Don't try to get out. And give me your phone." I fumbled my phone out of my pocket and held it out to him. I had no idea what to do. I was terrified. And the gun was still pointed at my head. Wasn't it safest just to obey?

"Why are you doing this?" I asked quietly as he took my phone.

"I suppose you'd like to know," Mello said, "But I don't intend on telling you just yet. Now, you're going to call your mother, and tell her that you'll be late getting home." He handed me my phone, and I opened my contacts list, the gun now pressing into the front of my skull. I didn't intend on calling anyone else, but Mello was obviously smart. He'd deleted the rest of my contacts.

The phone rang three times before my mom picked up. I almost cried when I heard her voice, but forced myself to remain calm; to try and keep the fear from shining from my eyes like floodlights. "Hey Enya," she said, "How are you?"

"I'm good mom," I answered, praying that she would find something, _anything _wrong with my voice, something that might tip her off to the situation I was in. "I just wanted to let you know I ran into Alorra at GameStop, we're going shopping and I might be a bit late getting back." My stomach was doing backflips. Very painful backflips. Mello gave me a bit of an odd look, and I flinched.

"Honey, you know I don't like you being out late… neither does your father." She had heard nothing. Just her daughter being herself. I wanted to cry.

"I know," I said, forcing back my tears and cursing every minor role, every tree or shrub my mom had forced me to act as in school plays; they were all paying off at the wrong time! "But I'm picking up my car too, so I won't be out on foot." I knew she would find another way to protest, so I quickly cut her off. "Mom, I'll be fine. I promise." Yeah, I'd be fine, I was only being kidnapped and had a gun to my head. "I'll only be a little late. Oh, and can you find a way to get me out of making dinner? Sirocco tricked me into it, and I don't know what to fix…" I trailed off, and then quickly ended the call. "I've got to go, I'll see you tonight!" I hung up instantly and tried to ease my breathing. "I told Sirocco to give the same excuse to my mom earlier, it'll hold up if she asks him," I explained quickly.

"Give me your phone," Mello said again. I handed it to him. A moment later, the gun was pulled away from my head, and Mello had performed a dangerous U-turn and taken off with a squeal of tires. I put my head against the window and closed my eyes. I didn't know what to do. I was scared, and stuck in a car with a man who had a gun. He'd taken my phone, and deleted all of my contacts (which I had never bothered to memorize). Amaya was lost, and Matt… well, he'd meant well, but this was entirely his fault. I took a deep, shaky breath and tried to pull myself together. It didn't work. I tried again, with slightly more positive results. I opened my eyes. Matt was standing on the curb, Amaya at his side. He'd caught her. He was staring at the car in shock. I wanted to call out, but fear had stolen my voice. Then I blinked and he was gone. Or rather, we were gone; speeding away to where, I didn't know.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked again. I couldn't keep the fear out of my voice, and mentally, I scolded myself. _If he wanted you dead, you'd be dead by now. You'll find a way out of this… just stay calm. _It was easier to think that thought than it was to act on it. I felt like I was going to hyperventilate any second, my heart was beating at about a hundred miles an hour, and my lungs weren't working right.

"I told you once," Mello said, "You don't need to know." I didn't know what to say. I was so scared… if you haven't been kidnapped before, there's not really any way to explain how it feels. Try to imagine being torn away from everyone and everything you know. It's probably harder than you thought. It's like dead, pure panic, like an icy glove clutching at your heart and freezing all of your internal organs. It's a feeling that will make you wake up in the middle of the night, gasping for breath and drenched in sweat.

It took all of my courage (and I will admit that at the time, that wasn't much), but I whispered, "Yes, I do." I flinched, half expecting him to shoot me, but nothing happened. He turned right, into an alley. I felt ill.

"Hold out your hands," Mello snapped. "With your wrists together." I did as he asked, my heart (if it was possible) speeding up even more. He slipped a pair of plastic handcuffs over them and pulled them tight. He proceeded to also put a pair around my ankles. I was tempted to kick him, but was still in shock. "Keep your hands in your lap," he warned, and then turned back towards the steering wheel and pulled out of the alley.

I blinked away a tear, and once again rested my head against the window. I remember my thoughts right then; I remember them to the letter. _Please don't hurt my family. _It was all I could think. _Please don't hurt Sirocco. _I couldn't imagine my little brother being in this position. The thought was paralyzing. I had to get out of here… for him and Amaya and mom and dad and Matt, and everyone else I knew. But I didn't know how to save myself. I had no idea as to what to do. So I closed my eyes against the tears that threatened to spill over my eyes, and concentrated on the cool glass that was pressed against my forehead. I don't know how long Mello drove, but the last thing I remembered before falling asleep was him pulling onto the highway.

Matt's POV

The second I saw my car being driven by Mello, I had a pretty good idea as to what was happening. I knew he used to associate with the Mafia, but I thought he'd managed to worm his way out of that; as much as one could, at any rate. But I was panting and gasping for breath after running after Amaya. Maybe all that crap about smoking affecting your lungs was true. Then again, I'd never been in very good shape. Either way, there was no way I'd be able to run after that car, even for half a block. So I did something a bit different. I walked off in the opposite direction. Enya's mom was the manager of that GameStop. I had to tell her about her daughter. _Her beautiful, funny, sharp-tongued daughter… Whoa Matt. Calm down, you don't even know the girl. _And it was true, I didn't know her. I'd met her less than three days ago, spoken to her for less than thirty minutes, and ended up getting her kidnapped. She'd probably hate me for the rest of her life.

_Oh God… her life… what if he kills her? What if he tortures her? What if he holds her for ransom and starts sending limbs to her parents as proof that he's got her? _Without really thinking about it, I started jogging. Then I picked up a run. Before I knew it, I was sprinting. Amaya kept up effortlessly, her paws seemingly sweeping over the pavement.

We managed a full two blocks. About one city block, maybe. Then I tripped and fell. I managed to catch myself before I broke my nose on the cement. But I couldn't run another step. I staggered to my feet and began walking, every panting gasp painful as it entered my lungs. I suddenly longed for a cigarette, but Enya's words kept echoing through my head. _"That's disgusting," _she'd muttered after she'd seen me smoking. I didn't know why, but I wanted to impress her. So I stayed my left hand (which had been slowly reaching for the pack of cigarettes in my pocket) and kept walking. I wasn't too far off from the store now… It should be right around this corner.

I managed a stumbling run when I saw the familiar store sign up ahead. I prayed that Enya's mom was still there, or at least that boy I'd seen her talking to who I assumed was her younger brother. Someone… anyone. I slowed to a walk and slipped through the door. No point in creating a scene.

Unfortunately, I almost immediately caught the attention of the boy who I assumed to be Enya's brother. "Hey," he said, walking up to me, "Name's Sirocco. That's my sister's dog there." Well, he was a bit odd. But not much more so than I was.

"Matt," I answered. "And I know. Um… hey, is your mom here?" Sirocco responded instantly, slipping away into the crowd as though he was made of quicksilver, and appearing about a minute later with a woman who stood several inches taller than me (damn my height), with dark brown hair and brown eyes. Her skin was a bit pale, like most serious gamers, and she had light purple rings under her eyes, like she didn't sleep well. Not exactly as pretty as her daughter, but I could see where Enya had gotten her figure.

"I'm Mrs. Yale," she said. Her voice held a faint accent that I couldn't quite put a name to, but I wasn't particularly concerned about that right now.

"Mail Jeevas," I replied, "Call me Matt. Um… is there like, a back room or your office or somewhere I could talk to you privately?" She nodded.

"My office will be fine. Why?"

"Um…" I didn't know what to say. "It's about Enya…" I saw something flash in the woman's eyes.

"If you laid a _finger _on my daughter…" I felt myself blush slightly.

"Mrs. Yale, you've got it wrong… just let me explain…" I could tell that Sirocco was beginning to sense my panic, and I think Mrs. Yale might have too. Either way, she turned without another word and walked off. I followed her, Sirocco walking behind me.

After we'd all assembled in her office (a small, stuffy affair with gray walls and a painting of a vase of flowers) and Sirocco had closed the door, I released Amaya's leash, realizing that I'd been holding on to it like a drowning victim might a lifeline. She trotted over to Sirocco, who absentmindedly stroked her ears. "Where's Enya?" Mrs. Yale snapped.

I took a deep breath, bracing myself for whatever explosion might come after my words. "She's been kidnapped."

There was nothing but dead, cold silence.

"Explain this," Mrs. Yale said after a minute. I took a moment to collect my thoughts, and in that time, I felt something change. It wasn't the temperature of the room, like they'll tell you in books, but the feeling. I suddenly felt as though I needed to stand up; start pacing. Or start trying to pull my hair out.

"Mom," Sirocco said, "Should we call dad?" Something in my mind clicked.

"Ma'am," I said before she had a chance to answer, "Where does your husband work?"

"He works with the FBI," she replied hesitantly. "You aren't really supposed to know that, but given the circumstances…" I nodded; everything falling into place.

"Okay," I said, "I'm pretty sure I've got a motive in place." And so, I began to explain.

…

AN: And so ends the second chapter. Please review!


	3. Bound and Gagged

**Chapter 3**

Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note, a Death Note, the anime, manga, or anything involving or related to Death Note. The end.

AN: This is still in Matt's point of view, just to let you know.

Bound and Gagged

I still don't know how to describe what went on after I'd finished my explanation. I mean, I was there, obviously, and awake and alert, but there are some things that your mind suppresses for certain reasons. This must have been one of those things. I don't remember anything that was said, but I remember Sirocco and Mrs. Yale having an argument about whether he'd be driven home or come with us. He ended up coming.

I remember getting into a car, or maybe a van. I can't remember now that I try and think about it. Sirocco and Amaya were sitting behind me. I remember that all the windows were rolled up, for some reason. Mrs. Yale was calling someone (presumably her husband) while she weaved in and out of the little traffic that littered the streets. Amaya, who didn't know what was going on, kept trying to stick her head out of the closed windows.

Enya's POV

When my eyes opened again, I thought I'd fallen asleep on a road trip. I didn't remember what had happened. I wasn't sure where I was. And then I looked at Mello in the driver's seat and almost screamed. I bit my tongue.

"So you live," Mello said quietly. I wasn't sure whether he'd meant for me to hear him or not, so I decided to stay silent. "We'll be there shortly."

"Where's 'there'?" I snapped. Apparently sleep had given me courage.

"There," Mello said. "Nothing more or less. Are you really so stupid?" I bit back a retort, feeling fear wrap itself around me once again. I suddenly realized how real this was. I really was sitting in the back of a stranger's friend's (was Matt really Mello's friend? Accomplice?) car, with my wrists and ankles bound, headed towards an unknown destination with no knowledge of my future. I was scared, alone, and had no way to contact anyone but my kidnapper, who was sitting in front of me. But then, I realized something.

This was a familiar route. We were going to the airport; this was the only road that lead that way and that was the only building along this road. Mello was running a huge risk of being caught by doing this, but if he was even an hour ahead of any pursuers, we could be hundreds of miles away before they even realized where we were going, and probably to our destination before they realized where we had gone. This was the definition of 'hopeless'. Yet the sun still beat down on the car, cheerful and ignorant of my fate. Why shouldn't it? Hundreds of thousands; millions and billions of people still had their lives to live. I had no right, nor way, to take that away from them. Of course the sun would still shine. I only prayed that it still shone over my family.

And of course it was. I was being sentimental, and when you're being abducted, being sentimental isn't the best idea. In fact, I'd like to say it's one of the worst. You stop thinking about your surroundings. And by the time I had realized this; Mello had already pulled over and blindfolded me. We were back on the road in a minute. I had hardly resisted at all, only pulling away from him slightly when he'd opened the door. There was no point now. If I tried to escape, he could easily kill me and bury me far from prying eyes. My dad would still arrest him, prosecute him; possibly sentence him to death if the court ruled it, but I'd still be dead and it wouldn't help. The FBI couldn't bring the dead to life and that was that.

If I did escape and wasn't killed, I would be lost, blindfolded and hobbled, probably until I starved to death. Either way, it was easier not to resist. The longer I stayed alive, the more hope I had of being found. But now I couldn't see where Mello was taking me, and I had a terrible feeling it wasn't the airport. If it was, we most certainly wouldn't be getting on a public flight.

Mello drove for at least another hour. I felt like he'd turned around at least twice, like he was trying to throw off my sense of direction. It worked quite well, seeing as how I'd never had much of a sense of direction to begin with. When the car finally slowed down, Mello swore as though it had run out of gas. A moment later, I realized it probably had. I heard a door (I assumed it was Mello's, but I wasn't sure about anything at the moment) slam, and then the trunk pop open. About five minutes later, the car was moving again. So Matt had a gas can in the trunk. I really could not believe this. Had they planned this together or not? Would Matt try to help me, or would he be trying to lead everyone in the wrong direction? All I wanted was to be safe at home, listening to music or sleeping until noon, or both.

Again, the car slowed. This time, however, there was the sense of having reached a destination. I heard a seat belt click and a door slam, then my own door open. "Get out," Mello snapped.

"How?" I replied. I heard a sigh and felt the strips of plastic around my ankles fall away.

"Try to run and I'll shoot you," he warned. I nodded, my moment of defiance gone, and clambered out of the car. I felt Mello grab my arm; not roughly, but it certainly wasn't a gentle touch. He led me several hundred feet away from the car before he spoke. "There are stairs here." I nodded and carefully made my way up, realizing that we were getting in a plane. I almost hung back, but Mello still had a tight grip on my arm and I didn't dare. After a minute or two, I couldn't find another step and assumed that we were now standing in the plane. I felt Mello slip my blindfold away from my eyes, only to tie it around my mouth a moment later; effectively gagging me. I glared at him.

He glared right back, and I glanced away. I was not easily intimidated, but then again, this wasn't really a normal day. He led me over to a seat near the back of the plane, and took the seat across from me. The shades were pulled down over the windows. It was a little fact, but very important. I had no idea where we were or where we were going. Or what would become of me once we got there.

"Have you got any sort of tracking devices on this?" Mello asked, indicating my phone. I shook my head. "Anything on you?"

"Ah you 'erious?" I said. I was trying to say 'are you serious', but it didn't work out so well with the gag on.

"I'll take that as a no, and as we're not in any position to search you, I can only hope that you're telling the truth…" I rolled my eyes. Sure, my dad worked with the FBI, but he wasn't exactly very high up in the agency. At least, I didn't think so. He did have to keep his actual job a secret from us, but that was normal. Or I thought it was. Hm… maybe Mello had a reason to kidnap me. Oh I hoped I was wrong. "There," Mello muttered. It was only then that I realized he'd sent something to someone (I assumed it was my mom). "That ought to give them enough information. I'll get rid of this when we're at the airport." I sighed. That should have been obvious.

I couldn't do anything, so I decided to relax. My heart was still beating at a hundred miles an hour, and I was still terrified of what was going to happen to me, but for now I could sense that nothing more would happen.

"You're quite calm," Mello commented. "Here…" He pulled a small lock-blade out of his pocket, leaned forward, and cut the cloth away from my face.

"Why the _hell _did you just do that?" I asked, working my jaw and feeling my lips crack and bleed at the corners.

"Takeoff," Mello replied. "I'm not really into looking stupid, so I don't intend to stand." I hadn't even noticed the plane beginning to move.

"W-where are we-?" I stopped myself before I finished my sentence. "Never mind. You won't tell me."

"Smart girl," Mello said absentmindedly.

"What did you send my mom?" I asked.

"A picture," he said. I suppose my shock was quite evident on my face. "Well, I figured it might be of some relief to your parents, to see you alive." I almost broke down crying. I was vaguely aware of the plane tilting upwards, towards the sky. I took a deep breath, bit my tongue, and swallowed hard, feeling my ears pop. I'd probably do that again in a few minutes, once we were at cruising altitude. I'd have preferred to be chewing gum, but that probably wasn't an option here.

Mello leaned back in his seat, staring absentmindedly at an empty seat several aisles away from him. My phone vibrated. He glanced at it, stood, and walked away from me. I think he went up to the cockpit. My eyes watered slightly as I thought of my mom, probably on the other end of the line. Or maybe it was my dad, trying to get a ransom of some sort for me. Whoever it was, I prayed Mello would let something slip.

Matt's POV

I heard Mrs. Yale's cell phone ring. It broke the silence in the car with a muted, dull ringing noise, nothing fancy. "Matt," she said, "Answer that, would you?" She held it out to me without waiting for an answer, and I took it like it was a bomb. There was a text message from Enya. For a split second, my hopes soared. Then I opened it and nearly died.

There sat Enya, in what looked like a plane, her eyes slightly red and a half-quiet, half too-scared-to-think-about-anything look on her face. There was a gag tied around her mouth, and her wrists were bound with those weird sorts of plastic handcuffs that you might see a mall cop carrying. "It's Enya," I said quietly. Mrs. Yale looked away from the road and at the phone, which I held out to her with a shaking hand. And no, I wasn't shaking from just fear. Nicotine withdrawal was a factor as well, and for some reason I hated myself for that.

"Oh Enya…" she whispered. "Thank God… thank God she's alive…" I supposed that was a good thing, but right now I was a little more concerned as to where Mello was taking her. I made a split second decision and dialed the callback number.

The phone rang twice; a cheap, almost silly sort of noise punching through my eardrums, before Mello picked up. I motioned for Sirocco and Mrs. Yale to be quiet, and hoped they understood. "Mello," I said.

"Matt," he replied. "Look, not even you can trace this call when we're moving. I know that and so do you. As for ransom demands, there are none yet. Yet, mind you. And I'll call you when I have any."

"When there are any? Don't tell me you haven't even got any demands for freeing her?" I heard Sirocco whimper from the back seat. Or maybe it was Amaya, I couldn't be sure.

"Well, there is one thing," Mello said. It sounded like he was going through some sort of list on the phone, which was odd until I remembered Enya's phone was a bit more high-tech than my old crappy one that could barely do more than talk and text. "Ever heard of…" more scrolling sounds, then: "Bound and Gagged by… Creature Feature?" He should've known my answer; I didn't listen to any music that wasn't coming out of my DS's speakers. "Well, listen to it. Anyway, bye." It sounded like he had been going through some form of a playlist. I assumed music, but one could never tell with Mello.

I hung up about thirty seconds after that. About a minute after _that, _I realized we had stopped the car. Sirocco had slipped out already, Amaya with him. "We've got a flat tire," Mrs. Yale explained. "We'll have to go on foot from here; we don't have a spare." I nodded and got out of the car. I heard the doors lock as I glanced around for Sirocco. He was looking at the tire, which looked like it had been slashed open.

"Maybe… well, it wouldn't be the first time we ran over something here…" He shrugged and stood up, brushing off his jeans. Amaya poked at the tire with her nose, uttered a gentle bark, and then began walking away, dragging Sirocco with her. I followed them, wondering where we were going.

"Oh, Matt," Mrs. Yale called, "Wait!" I stopped and glanced back at her as she ran over to me. "Here, I'm really sorry, but you'll have to wear this…" I saw her pull my goggles off of my eyes and felt a soft cloth wrapped around my eyes. "Security reasons."

"Of course," I replied, "Lead on." She put a hand on my shoulder and guided me forward for maybe half an hour before we came to a stop. By this time, I was itching for a smoke. My hands were, I assumed, visibly shaking. A moment later, I felt the breeze that had been blowing against the back of my neck disappear, and Sirocco undid my blindfold and handed me my goggles. I slipped them over my eyes gratefully and took in my surroundings. We were in a small, rather square-ish place that I quickly recognized as an elevator. It was dark and quite, without any of those annoying tunes that you normally hear playing. A single light flickered overhead as we moved down.

The elevator ground to a stop. "Identification," a robotic, female voice commanded.

"Eva Yale," Enya's mother replied, "With her son Sirocco and a witness with important information. Also here is the family dog, Amaya." A green light blinked over the door and it slid open with a hydraulic hiss and we stepped out. Mrs. Yale (apparently Eva) smiled at me. "They're quite strict here," she said in explanation. I didn't think I wanted to know what would have happened if she hadn't identified us properly. The government certainly wouldn't appreciate me being around; I had hacked their systems one or two times too many. I decided that, for one day, I could keep my head down. Maybe.

Damn this withdrawal.

…

AN: I'm so sorry for such a late update! High school's been insane, I'm hoping (probably in vain) that it'll slow down soon, but… Either way, I hope this was up to standard. Please review!


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